


She Gave It All Up For Children

by soulgyrl



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anger, Dysfunctional Family, Family Bonding, Family Secrets, Gen, Heartache, Hope, Mental Anguish, Mental Instability, Promise
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-11
Updated: 2017-03-28
Packaged: 2018-09-23 14:44:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9661922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soulgyrl/pseuds/soulgyrl
Summary: After years of infertility, it appeared that Persephone Holmes was finally getting the little family she'd always dreamed of. But what happens when those dreams turn into one night mare after another? How do you cope, how do you emotionally survive and carry on with any semblance of normalcy? When  hope is crushed ...is there a way to get it back? The Holmes' family saga may be one of heartache and secrets and betrayal, but it is also one of understanding, forgiveness...and love.





	1. Chapter 1

“No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear.”  
― [C.S. Lewis](https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1069006.C_S_Lewis)

 

15 October 1983

 

A knock on the door. “Mrs.  Homes? Mrs. Holmes?  May I come in?”

No answer.

“Mrs. Holmes, your husband will be here to take you home this afternoon. Around three o’clock. Do you hear me Mrs. Holmes?”

A long drawn out breath, then “Yes…yes…alright. I hear you. And ah, thank you.”

Footsteps walking away.

Persephone Holmes opened the last drawer she hadn’t yet emptied out of her temporary dresser, and placed its contents in the waiting suitcase. After three and a half weeks in Our Lady of the Angels Convalescent Home, she was more than ready to… She was more than ready to…what? Go home? Be a loving mother to her sons? Resume her wifely duties? She wasn’t really sure she was up to any of those things, but did she really have a choice?

_No…no you do NOT! It’s time to pull yourself together and get the hell on with it, Sephie. It’s not David or the boys’ fault._

And it wasn’t really going…home. Home was gone. The mansion where three previous generations of Holmes had been born, raised, and in some cases, died, was no more. Musgrave Hall was now nothing but a burned-out shell, full of memories, ghosts of evil deeds, sorrow, and dashed dreams. David had taken it upon himself to see to the arrangements for Eurus’s transition to the mental institution, caring for the boys, and finding suitable, temporary lodgings for the family until another proper home could be purchased. Persephone had been in no state of mind to help with anything. The circumstances surrounding the disappearance of the Trevor boy had been horrifying enough. The loss of the family homestead was one more thing than her psyche could bear. A complete mental collapse was the result.

She got down on her hands and knees and reached underneath the dresser, pulling out a 5 by 7 framed photograph. The doctors frowned upon you dwelling on the memories of what landed you there in the first place, but… she needed to. Eurus was gone. There were few happy memories to cling to. Pain was basically all there _was_. She came here to learn how to cope with the pain, not forget it. She didn’t want to forget.

She rubbed her hands across the glass of the picture frame: David, the boys, Eurus, and herself. It had actually been a rare happy day for Eurus when it was taken. The photographer had arrived early that morning, snapped a dozen or so shots, and then the Holmes’ had packed up and headed to the beach for the day. Eurus had even managed a slight smile for the picture. She had so rarely smiled.

Persephone shook herself back to the present and wiped away the tears that had snuck down her cheeks. She tucked the picture under her clothes in the suitcase and snapped it shut. This was exactly what she wasn’t supposed to be doing. Dwelling. But, dwell she would. She was confident that she could now go back and revisit those memories without feeling like hell itself had risen up to claim her. There would never be total peace, there would always be pain, but now it was…manageable.

She went over to the window seat, sat, and looked out at the small pond below. A mother duck and six ducklings were lazily sailing along its surface.  A couple of the facilities patients had taken up residence in the Adirondack-style chairs that lined the water’s edge, occasionally throwing bread crumbs to the thankful birds. She consulted her watch and realized she had almost three hours before David would be arriving. She leaned back upon the fluffy, chenille-covered pillows provided and closed her eyes.

888888888888888

 

April 11, 1977

_Mrs. Holmes...Mrs. Holmes. Can you wake up? She’s arrived, dear. You have a daughter. Did you hear me? A daughter._

Persephone Holmes _thought_ she heard someone mumbling on about a...daughter…or some such thing. She wasn’t functioning too well at the moment. She tried hard to remember where she was, what was going on. Why were the lights so bright and what was all that tugging on her abdomen about? She looked down…a...curtain (?) blocking her view of anything below her chest.

 Instant awareness.

The baby! Oh my god, she’d had the baby!

She tried moving, she wanted to sit up…or something, but found that her hands were strapped down to her sides in addition to...whatever else was going on down there.

“Whoa…whoa there, Mrs. Holmes,” said a rotund nurse with kind, emerald green eyes, “You’ve got to lay still, dearie. You’ve had a Caesarian, you’re still groggy, and Doctor isn’t quite finished sewing you up. We’ll get you all nice and situated and then you can see your little girl.”

“My…little girl,” she exclaimed, and managed a weak smile. “Where is David…my husband?”

“Well now,” the nurse answered, “he’d be in the waiting room, I expect. One of us will go give him the happy news as soon as we get you squared away. Then you both can spend some time with your daughter. But now, just remain still and all will soon be put to rights.”

A Caesarian section. Right, because the baby wasn’t moving and she had been in agony for hours. When the little girl finally decided to proceed, it was sideways instead of downwards. As a result, she was stuck, and an emergency C-section was necessary. And so, following suit, the birth was just as difficult as the pregnancy had been.

8888888888888888888

Persephone Carlotta Elizabeth Marlbourne had met and married David Geoffrey Holmes when she was twenty-eight and he thirty-one. After several years of battling infertility, a son was finally born, Mycroft Nathaniel Octavius Holmes, on October 17, 1968. Persephone was thirty-three. The pregnancy was difficult; the baby born a month early, but healthy. The Holmes’ were content with their family, and frankly, didn’t expect any more children due to their difficulty conceiving. And so, it was with considerable joy, that they welcomed a second son some seven years later. William Sherlock Scott Holmes joined the household on January 6, 1976. Persephone sailed through the pregnancy and delivery without so much as a bout of morning sickness, and Sherlock, as he was to be called, arrived into this world kicking and screaming at the injustice of it all.

Mycroft doted on his baby brother, and was a trifle miffed when it was discovered, fairly soon, that a third Holmes sibling would be added to the growing family. The elder Holmes’ were completely awestruck. Persephone had secretly dreamed of having several children and now it seemed those dreams were being realized.

However, this third pregnancy had been a problem from the get go. Previous pregnancy issues, unrelenting morning sickness, the fact that she was now in her forty’s, and following so close on the heels of Sherlock’s birth, were all probable factors in this matter.

However, now, she had a daughter. A daughter! She could scarcely believe it! Her name would be the very one she’d had in mind since Mycroft’s birth: Eurus Athena Elizabeth Holmes. She’d developed a passion for the Greek Goddesses during childhood when she had discovered the meaning of her own unusual name. Visions of doll prams, tea parties, and frilly frocks rushed through her head.

“Okay, all finished,” the kind-eyed nurse announced, “I’ll take you back to your room and fetch your husband. She’s a darling lass, Mrs. Holmes, blue-eyed and golden ringlets on the nape of her neck.  A wee bit shaken from the birth perhaps, but she's bouncing back. Her last Apgar score was seven which is fine. She’s getting a wash now and then someone will bring her to you. Congratulations!”

Persephone thanked those around her, but as the nurses wheeled her out of the delivery room a thought crossed her mind: she didn’t recall hearing any baby crying; not once. Not even a whimper.

 

8888888888888888888888

 

 

August 24, 1977

So far, Eurus had proven to be the model infant, at least on the surface. She nursed and ate her Pablum without fuss, napped twice a day, and although she didn’t actually sleep much during the night, she didn’t cry either, but lay content, looking at the contents of her crib with considerable interest. And it wasn’t just that she never cried, she rarely showed emotion of any sort. On this day, while Eurus was in her baby seat in the kitchen, Mycroft and Sherlock were being incredibly silly in an attempt to make her laugh. The elder brother began throwing exaggerated punches into the air, and poor Sherlock walked right into a flailing fist. The result was much howling and wailing from Sherlock (who also sported a nice shiner for two weeks), tears and apologies from Mycroft, and a grin and, slightly maniacal, chuckle from Eurus.

Persephone, who had been chopping onions at the counter during the whole debacle, quickly turned to look at her daughter and tend to Sherlock. By then, Eurus had resumed her flat, emotionless countenance, and Persephone thought perhaps she had just imagined the laugh. Later that evening, she questioned Mycroft as to whether Eurus had indeed found amusement in their antics. “Yes,” he replied, “but only after Sherlock got slugged and started crying.” It was her first real glimpse of the horrors that were to come.

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “From childhood's hour I have not been. As others were, I have not seen. As others saw, I could not awaken. My heart to joy at the same tone. And all I loved, I loved alone.”  
> ― Edgar Allan Poe

April 1, 1978

“But she hasn’t shown any interest, David. Mycroft was at least trying to toddle by now, and Sherlock was running all over like lightning when he was ten months old! She’s going to be a year in just over a week, and she hasn’t even attempted to take one step. Not one!”  
David Holmes walked over to his wife, took the dishtowel out of her hands, and led her to a kitchen chair.  
“Sit down, Sephie. You worry too much, my dear. Eurus will walk in her own good time. Brother Rudy didn’t walk completely on his own until he was over fifteen months old. All children are different, each with their own unique timetable as to when they are ready for the next step in life. Literally in this case.”  
He said these words, but his eyes told a different story. Persephone could see the unease behind the shine. He was trying to stay brave and positive for her, but the truth was they both knew something wasn’t quite right. She patted his hand.  
“I still think I’ll mention my concerns to the doctor when she goes for her twelve months shots in two weeks. Rudy had medical issues that kept him from walking. Eurus simply doesn’t appear to have the…the will. Something’s wrong, David.”

 

July 30, 1978

“Oh, Mum, do I have to?”  
“Yes, Mycroft, just while I work on the rose bed for a bit. Eurus hasn’t been feeling well today and she just fell asleep. You can play right here with Sherlock and I’ll make lunch when I come in, ham sandwiches and honey cake. If Eurus wakes up, come and get me, okay?”  
“Oh, alright. Come on, Sherlock. I’ll get the Matchbox cars.”  
An hour later, Persephone returned from her labors to find the boys still playing happily in the hallway.  
“No Mum,” young Mycroft replied to his mother’s inquiries, “I haven’t heard any noise out of her at all.”  
But when Persephone went in to check on her daughter, she was nowhere to be seen. The frantic mum went scurrying around, looking behind furniture, and yelling at her oldest son as she went.  
“I thought you said she didn’t wake up, Mycroft.”  
“I didn’t say that. I said we didn’t hear any noise out of her. And she never came out of this room, mummy, I swear.”  
“Did you leave this hallway out all?”  
“Just once, to go to the bathroom. It was just a few minutes. She never came out though, did she, Sherlock?”  
The toddler looked at his brother and shook his head. “No, Eurus not come out.”  
However, she wasn’t in the closet or behind anything. Persephone concluded that she must have gotten out of her crib and out of the room. She started searching the other bedrooms and calling her name, but to no avail.  
It was Sherlock who found her, a mere five minutes later, in a small cabinet that doubled as a changing table...right in her bedroom. There was barely enough space for her to crawl inside, and her mother never thought to check it. She had fallen asleep, but not before cutting off all of her hair with a pair of kitchen shears. No one ever solved the mystery of how she obtained them.

 

May 3, 1980

“Please, oh dear god, someone please…please help me! My little girl!”  
David Holmes went running down the hospital corridor, a violently vomiting Eurus in his arms. A couple of nurses soon ran up to him and took the child from his arms.  
“What’s wrong with her?”  
“We…..believe she ate some Vim…quite a bit.”

  
Half an hour later, a middle age doctor met the Holmes’ in the emergency waiting room.  
“Your daughter will be fine. We’ve flushed and pumped her stomach and there doesn’t appear to be any lasting damage to the esophagus. I think you should be able to take her home in a couple of hours. And you’re probably right about the Vim. Kids will do things like that.”  
Yes,” David answered, “yes they will. Thank you, doctor.”  
They didn’t mention that Eurus hold told them she had eaten the Vim on purpose because she wanted to “wash the tickle out of her throat and the kill the dragon in her tummy”.

17 December 1981  
“We’re terribly sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Holmes, but we don’t believe St Catherine’s is a good fit for Eurus at this time,” Mr. Horace Blite, the head principal of St Catherine’s School for Girls, stated.  
“What you _really_ mean,” Persephone snorted, “is that Eurus isn’t a good fit for the school.”  
Mr, Blite, and his assistant administrator, Mrs. Wendy Davis, looked at each other uncomfortably.  
“Mr. and Mrs. Homes,” Mrs. Davis began, a very determined look on her face, “we simply _cannot_ go on allowing Eurus to be as disruptive and disrespectful in the classroom as she has been. Ms. Beasley, her teacher, has informed us numerous times, as you are well aware, that she spends more of her time redirecting and dealing with your daughter than she does actually teaching. We simply cannot allow this to continue. We have tried every method we know of to try and…correct this issue but to no avail. Quite frankly, we don’t believe Eurus is ready for this much structure yet.”

  
Mrs. Davis’s voice softened, “Please understand, some children are just not ready for the rigid, systemized education at the age of four that we apply here at St. Catherine’s. It’s only pre-school; perhaps it’s best to wait another year. By then Eurus should be ready and able to apply herself to a more…controlled environment.”  
With heavy hearts, the Holmes signed the papers that would withdraw Eurus from St. Catherine’s the following day.

9 February 1982

“Mummy, mummy, come quick,” a young Mycroft screeched as he ran into the kitchen. Sherlock has fallen out of the tree house and he isn’t moving.”  
Persephone threw down the bag of potatoes she was carrying and hurried to the spot where Sherlock lay. He was still, and a nasty gash on the back of his head was oozing blood, but he was breathing. She scooped him up in her arms, and glancing up, saw Eurus standing in the doorway of the tree house, a white-faced and tearful Victor Trevor behind her.  
“Mycroft,’ she ordered, “get Eurus to the car as fast as you can. Victor dear, you’ll have to go home now.”  
She hurried him back to the car and then on to the hospital at top-neck speed.

  
Later that evening, with Sherlock stitched up and resting peacefully in his hospital bed, David Holmes confronted Mycroft for the full story.  
“Do you know what happened, Mycroft? Sherlock was mumbling something about Eurus pushing him, but she is saying Redbeard did it.”  
“No, dad,” he began, “Victor didn’t do it; Eurus did. Well, I didn’t actually see her do it, but I heard her. I was just about to climb the ladder when Sherlock fell right next to me. And then I looked up and saw Eurus standing there, in the doorway. She had been arguing with Sherlock because he and Victor wanted to go play near the rocks and she wanted them to stay there and play with her. I heard her yelling at Sherlock to not leave the ship because there were monsters below, and then there he was….thud. She did it, dad. She hates Victor. She pushed Sherlock because she was mad, that’s all.”

  
“Monsters below,” Persephone muttered. It was the first of several more times they would hear this phrase from their daughter, but its true meaning had not yet become apparent.

17 April 1982

David Holmes walked into the living room to find his wife on the couch sipping a cup of tea and the boys playing with a train set. He sat down beside his wife.  
“So, how did the party go?” He inquired.  
Persephone turned to address the boys. “Mycroft, take Sherlock and the train set up to your room. I need to talk with daddy a bit.”  
“Oh, mum, do we have to?” Mycroft sighed.  
“Yes, you do. Just for a little while. Now, off you go.”

  
Her sons left, and Persephone turned to her husband with her eyes full of tears.  
“Oh, David…it was a disaster. I sent out fifteen invitations and only two children showed up. And that’s after I called several of the parents who never even bothered to RSVP and was told that yes, their child was attending. And that Cynthia Neville girl, the one Eurus talks about all the time…a no-show. Eurus was absolutely convinced she was coming and refused to start the party until she arrived. I finally called her mother and was told that, quite frankly, Cynthia did not want to come to Eurus’s party, didn’t even want to play with Eurus. Of course, I had to tell Eurus that Cynthia wasn’t coming, and when I did, she shut down. I could not get her to participate in anything. She refused to blow out her candles and did not eat one bite. Not even the cinnamon ice cream she loves. The two girls who did come…Melissa Partridge and Emily Niles…tried to engage with her, but she wasn’t having any of it. Thank heavens the boys were here; they played the games with the guests. Afterward, Eurus shut herself in her room…she’s barely looked at her presents. I wonder now if all those stories she’s told us of playing with Cynthia in school are just that…stories. What do you think we should do, David. Cynthia’s been the only reason Eurus wants to go to school. You know she’s so advanced she’s not really learning much there she doesn’t already know, so… if there isn’t going to be anything there to keep her mind occupied…or at least keep her happy….well, I wonder if we should consider homeschooling her ourselves. I really do not want to move her up another grade because she won’t fit in with those children either due to the age difference.  
“You mean hire a tutor or governess?” David asked.  
“No, I do not mean that, I mean teach her ourselves. Well, myself, mainly. When I quit working when Mycroft was born, it was because I wanted to give one hundred percent to our children. Eurus requires more one on one than the boys ever did. I think that is going to be the case throughout her school years. I’ll need to hire another housekeeper though.”

  
David pulled his wife to him and kissed her forehead. “Well, let’s give it a bit. This term will soon be over and then we can make the decision to send her back or not. Now, I’m going to go in and spend some time with Eurus. Maybe I can entice her into a little cake and ice cream.”  
But Eurus wasn’t having any of it. No matter what her father did or said, she sat there looking back at him with vacant eyes, chanting about the “dragons in her tummy” and the “monsters below”.

27 June 1982

“Absolutely not,” David Holmes spoke forcefully. “We are not putting our five-year-old in a mental institution. If we could just get the help we’ve been asking for, I’m sure we can handle this….issue ourselves.”  
“It wouldn’t be a permanent situation, Mr. Holmes,” Dr. Dorothy Marker said. “It would put the time frame between three and six months. She would receive the best of care and you’d be welcome to visit whenever you chose. Look, you obviously came here for a very good reason: concern for your daughter’s welfare. It’s true, we could recommend medication and give you information that you could utilize at home, including at-home help, but Eurus’s situation is… unique. Looking over all the information you’ve supplied, it’s obvious your daughter has some deep-seated mental and emotional issues. And with this last incident, this self-mutilation…it’s quite apparent she needs professional help. She very well could have died. By your own admission, you thought it was a suicide attempt, and suicide attempts should never be dealt with lightly, especially with one so young. That a five-year-old would want to end her life is…is heart-wrenching. It speaks of an extreme, serious issue.”

  
“But that’s not what we said,” Persephone stated. “We thought, at first, that it was a suicide attempt, but then she explained to us it was nothing more than her wanting a first-hand view of how her muscles worked. And alright, yes, we know that’s not a normal thing for a child…for...for anyone to say or do. We know this. We know our daughter is in need of some sort of intervention. All we are asking for is some help…at home. If we could have a therapist, someone to come and spend some time with her…but in our home. I don’t believe taking her away from her family and placing her in a strange place with unfamiliar people and surroundings will be in any way beneficial to her. Certainly, you can understand our side of things.”  
Dr. Marker sighed and drummed her fingers on her desk. “Alright, Mr. and Mrs. Holmes I will see what I can do. In the meantime, I am going to prescribe a low dosage of Chlorpromazine. She will be closely monitored and it will be only for a specified amount of time, probably a year. There are side effects, but if Eurus exhibits any signs of developing any of them we will take steps to remove her from it. And I will arrange for a home therapist to visit once a week. I may even be able to get you some help with specialized tutoring.”  
Persephone gave an audible sigh of relief. “Thank you, doctor. Now, what more do we need to get done here today so that we can we take our daughter home?”  
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

That evening, tucking Eurus into her bed, David kissed his daughter and reiterated the speech they had repeated to her several times in the last two days.  
“Now, Eurus, if we want to see how the different parts of our body work, we will ask mummy or daddy to help us, right? No more cutting our arms, or legs, or anything else. We don’t want to make another trip to hospital now, do we?”  
“No daddy,” she answered.

But he had an uneasy sense that she still did not understand that what she did had been the wrong way to go about things.

  
For a while, the combination of medication and home therapy appeared to be working for Eurus. There were fewer outbursts and she played along nicely with her brothers (although still ignoring others) and was doing well with her studies. It was during this time period Eurus developed an interest in painting and drawing and taught herself to play the violin. She included Sherlock in the later activity and they even gave a couple little “concerts” to the other family members with original music. Then, about six months into the treatment… and just a few weeks before her sixth birthday, Eurus starting exhibit signs of serious side effects to the medication; Muscle stiffness, unsteady gait, and dizziness proved to be cause enough for Dr. Marker to begin weaning Eurus off of the Chlorpromazine. Unfortunately, signs of the Eurus-before-treatment started to manifest themselves shortly after the discontinuing of the medication. In addition, the therapist, Ms. Hendrix, eventually stopped making her visits when Eurus began refusing to participate in any of the planned activities and she determined she had done all she could do for the child. And so…the monsters returned…


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Come away, O human child!  
> To the waters and the wild  
> With a faery, hand in hand,  
> For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.”  
> ― W.B. Yeats

2 September 1983

“Play with me, Sherlock, play with me.” Eurus was running circles around her brother with her toy airplane. “Help me, Sherlock, the plane needs to land, it needs to come down. I don’t know where to go; I don’t know how to land it. Help me, brother, please.”

  
“Not now, Eurus. Can’t you see Redbeard and I are playing pirates? I don’t want to play silly airplane now. We can do that later.”

  
“Can I play pirates with you then?”

  
“Oh, Eurus, we run really fast and you can’t keep up, remember? Your legs don’t work as well as ours. Go play with Mycroft.”

  
“But I don’t want to play with Mycroft, I want to play with you. Why can’t stupid old Victor just go home?”

  
“Stop saying stupid or I’m going to tell mummy. You know you’re not supposed to talk like that.”

  
“I don’t care…stupid, stupid, stupid. He’s mean to me, I hate him.”

  
“Just go away, Eurus. I’ll play with you later...I promise.”

5 September 1983  
6:27 pm

“Come dear. Sit and I’ll get you a nice, hot cup of Darjeeling. David’s phoned for the police.”

  
Persephone led a very tearful Gretchen Trevor to a kitchen chair. She had shown up at the Holmes door with a desperate plea: Had they seen her Victor?  
The boy had begged her earlier to please let him go play with Sherlock. The two had made plans yesterday to meet this afternoon at twelve-thirty, and Mrs. Holmes had already given approval. As she was knee deep in canning tomatoes, as well as trying to manage her fussy twin infant daughters, she abandoned the usual practice of phoning the Holmes first to make sure that it was okay. She sent him off with a reminder to be careful and be home by five, at the latest, for tea.

  
Only Victor had never made it to Sherlock’s side.

  
When Victor hadn’t returned by five-thirty, Gretchen gave her neighbors a call. As it happened, the Holmes were enjoying an early supper in their yard and did not hear the phone. And so, Gretchen made her way over to the Holmes on foot, pushing the twins in their pram. Her husband, Clarke, was away visiting his invalid mother.

  
But, no, Persephone hadn’t seen Victor, nor had Sherlock. In fact, Sherlock had been very moody all day lamenting the fact that Redbeard had not kept their play date. Mycroft had also expressed that he had not seen the boy.  
Then they asked Eurus. At first, she only shrugged her shoulders saying nothing and no one gave her much more thought in the matter. However, the next morning, she told Sherlock that she had ‘taken Redbeard and locked him up.” Sherlock immediately went to his mother in tears and relayed what his sister had told him. When confronted by her mother, the story was the same…Redbeard was locked up. She called David’s office and told him to come home immediately.  
\-------------------------  
“Eurus, darling, tell daddy. What do you mean you’ve locked Redbeard up? Where have you locked him up? If you have done this, you must tell, you simply must.”

  
But she refused to even speak.

  
“We have to tell someone, Persephone, we simply have to.”

  
“But they’ll take her away, David. And anyway, there’s no proof…what proof can we offer other than her words? Oh god, this is my fault.”

  
“You can’t blame yourself, my dear. There’s nothing anyone could have done to prevent this.”

  
The day following victor’s disappearance, twenty volunteers from the local community scoured the four acres of land that covered the Holmes’ and Trevor’s’ property’s for any sign of the child.

  
No one had any idea about the abandoned well that had not been used by the last three generations of Holmes’ and was now grown over and virtually impossible to detect. No, no one thought to look there because no one knew that it existed….no one except Eurus. She had discovered it during her solitary wanderings when there was no one to play with and she was left to her own devices. It was at the northern most edge of the Holmes’ property, near a small copse of woods; not a place the children normally played…a place no one had much cause to visit…or search.

  
And it was at breakfast two days after Victor’s disappearance, when being questioned yet again about Victor’s whereabouts, that Eurus started singing her little song, directed at Sherlock: I who am lost; oh, who will find me; deep down below the old beech tree; help succor me now; the east winds blow; sixteen by six, brother; and under we go. Sherlock took off to look for his friend. He spent the entire day searching around every beech tree he could find, but…no Redbeard.  
Several conversations were had in the privacy of their bedroom that day by the elder Holmes, but no conclusions as to what course of action to take were ever drawn.

  
“There’s still no positive proof, Persephone.”

  
“There’s the song.”

  
“But what does it mean, my love? It doesn’t make any sense. Poor Sherlock’s been driving himself mad with searching. I really wish he would stop.”

  
“But, Victor was his friend, David. Of course, he’s upset. Let him look if he wants to. He’ll stop in his own good time. That he thinks Eurus has buried his friend underneath a tree somewhere breaks my heart, but every possible area has already been searched...there’s nothing. Maybe the boy really was abducted as D.I. Henderson believes.”

  
“Perhaps,” David stated, “but then why do we feel so uneasy about it. And why would Eurus be saying these things.” He sighed, heavily. “I… I have a bad feeling about this. I still feel like we should say something…to…to someone. But, for your sake, I’ll keep mum, for now, dear.”  
He would live to regret that decision.  
\------------------------------------  
10 September 1983

If Eurus thought that getting rid of her rival was going to win her brother’s undivided attention, she soon found that she was sorely mistaken. If anything, Sherlock became more anti-social and withdrawn from her. He spent all his time searching for Redbeard, and he threw his pirate hat and sword in the trash.  
At two o’clock in the afternoon of that fateful day, Mycroft was in the upstairs hallway of the children’s wing, on his way to the kitchen for a drink, when he thought he smelled smoke. He ran downstairs to find his mother, who was busy readying a roast for that evening’s supper.  
She instructed Mycroft to call the fire department while she ran upstairs to retrieve her other children. Smoke was billowing out from under Eurus’s door. She screamed her name and threw the door open. Eurus was standing there, seemingly unaffected by the smoke that was swirling around her. The rest of the room behind her was already engulfed in flames. There was a box of matches in Eurus’s left hand and a scorched, hand-drawn picture of Sherlock in her right. Her sweater was covered in soot and some of her hair was singed off.

  
“Oh, god…what have you done,” she sobbed as she scooped the girl up in under one arm. She then went barreling down the hallway towards Sherlock’s room, screaming his name. He came out into the hallway and she gathered him up under her other arm. Running down the stairs, she yelled for Mycroft to follow her out into the yard. The closest fire department was solely a volunteer one, fifteen miles away. And so, in stunned disbelief, Persephone Holmes and her children sat in the grass waiting for the fire crew’s arrival as Musgrave Hall burned in front of them. The once great residence was soon to become no more than a shell and ashes.

  
When David finally reached his family, who had been given shelter at the local vicarage, he found his wife in a desperate state of nerves trying her best to comfort their sons who were sobbing uncontrollably. Eurus was lying in a near catatonic state beside her mother. The vicar’s wife, knocking first, came in with a tray laden with tea, sandwiches, and biscuits which placated the boys enough to allow their parents to go to another room for a private conversation.

  
“She did it,” Persephone said, in a quiet, shaky voice. ‘Eurus set the fire.”

  
“Are you….quite sure, Sephie. That’s a…a very serious accusation.”

  
“David, she was standing there with a box of matches in one hand and a half-burned picture of...what looked like Sherlock…in the other. Of course, I’m sure. The Trevor boy...and now this? I can’t do this anymore, David, I can’t. I’ve tried so hard to do everything I could to help her. Nothing…nothing has worked. I’ve failed her, David. What kind of a mother am I? Now our daughter is an arsonist….and….and a murderer.”

  
She collapsed into her husband’s arms.

  
Now after three weeks in Our Lady of the Angels, Persephone Holmes was ready to return to her life. Unfortunately, the veil of tragedy that surrounded the family was not yet lifted.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Is there no way out of the mind?” “Can you understand? Someone, somewhere, can you understand me a little, love me a little?"- Sylvia Plath

12 September 1983

 

“Don’t worry.” Rudy Holmes assured his brother. “I’ve heard Aishling’s is one of the best children’s facilities in England. I’m sure they’ll take proper care of her there. And, of course, Jennifer and I are willing to do whatever we can to help. You and Sephie don’t _have_ to do this alone, you know. Anytime…anywhere…for any reason…you can call on me, David. Please remember that! I’m your brother and we’re all the family we have.”

David put his arm around his brother’s shoulder. “Yes, we are. Thank you, Rudy. Sephie and I appreciate that.”

 

24 March 1984

 

“The house looks wonderful, Persephone. You’ve done a splendid job making this into a real _home_ , my love,” David announced, giving his wife a quick kiss.

“The boys seem pleased. There’s a lot of space in their bedrooms; plenty enough for all their things. Oh, and the gardener will be here tomorrow to finish up. I’m rather proud of what he and I have come up with, especially the tiled patio. It will be a nice place for outdoor dinner parties this summer.”

David hesitated a bit before speaking. “Did….did the hospital or…or Dr. Lambert call today?”

Persephone sat down at a nearby kitchen chair. “Yes…yes, Dr. called today. He _thinks_ Eurus is responding well to the newest treatment, but it’s a little early to tell I would think. It’s only been a week. He would also like to know if we want to continue with her studies. He said she’s already read two books this week.”

“Well then,” David responded, “that sounds…encouraging. She hasn’t shown much interest in reading in some time. I think if she is cooperating we should supply _some_ form of education. If she comes….home, we don’t want her to be terribly far behind.”

Persephone shook her head. “That’s exactly what I think. We can discuss this further with him when we visit on Friday. Have you talked with Mycroft? Is he going with us?”

“Yes, I believe so. At least he expressed some interest to me. I do believe he has gotten over his anger with her. He’s still distressed, of course, but he has learned to channel his feelings responsibly; therapy has done wonders for him. What about Sherlock? What did his counselor have to say today?”

“He still refuses to even speak about any visitation with Eurus. Honestly, I’m not sure it’s such a good idea anyway. I believe Eurus would like to see _him_ , but we have to think of Sherlock’s well-being, too. I think it would be detrimental for him at this point, and the counselor agrees. He believes Sherlock is in a rather precarious state yet. He said he wouldn’t classify Sherlock’s feelings towards Eurus necessarily as anger, but almost total indifference; a sign he is suffering from PTSD. I have to agree.”

David walked over to the sink and looked out the window. “Dear Jesus, how long are the boys going to have to suffer because of this? I feel like we are all living in some sort of a…a time warp where everything’s just… slowed down. Some days seem as though they are standing still. I’m afraid for Sherlock, Sephie. Maybe even more frightened for him than I am for Eurus. I guess we will just have to keep on reassuring him that we love him, we are here for him, and will protect him. What more can we do?”

888888888888888888

 

15 November 1984

 

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Holmes,” Dr. Lambert started, “but Eurus is simply not interested in participating in any formal education. She has expressed, quite vehemently, that she prefers to educate herself. Any other suggestion just promotes fits of rage and hysteria.”

“But surely you have something that can calm her down so she can focus?”

“My dear Mrs. Holmes, I am sure you are aware that we have your daughter on a very extensive medication regime. Quite honestly, some of the dosages that we are giving her would knock out most grown men; and it seems to have little effect on her at all! I do not dare change…or add...anything at this juncture. I believe our best option is to comply with her wishes. She may become bored with self-instruction and change her mind.”

Persephone looked at the doctor in some disbelief. “But she’s a seven-year-old child! How is she going to ‘instruct herself’? She needs guidance. And who is going to be overseeing what she is learning?”

The doctor picked up a manila folder off of his desk and handed it to Persephone.

“Mrs. Holmes, in the last ten days, your daughter has read Tolstoy’s “War and Peace”, “Chariot of the Gods” by Von Daniken, Orwell’s “1984”, and “Is Anyone Out There: The Scientific Search for Extraterrestrial Life” by Drake and Sobel. All this at an age when any other child would be considered quite intelligent to get through “Moby Dick”. And there, in that folder, is Eurus’s attempt to rewrite Drake’s Equation.”

Persephone, slack-jawed, rifled through the pages in the envelope, closed it, and looked at the doctor; tears were pricking behind her eyes.

The doctor continued. “She has a model of the solar system hanging in her room, put together with rubber balls she’s, ah…..refashioned, and paper Mache. The detail is exquisite. She requested a world map so she could memorize all the countries. The next day she asked one of her counselor’s to quiz her; she could point out one hundred and fifty …and their capitals. The point I’m trying to make, Mrs. Holmes is that I know of no curriculum on earth…geared towards a child…that would facilitate your daughter. This brings me to my next item I need to relate to you. We received Eurus’s test results four days ago. She has tested off the charts, Mrs. Holmes. I have consulted with colleagues from other districts…even other countries…and cannot find any information on a seven-year-old with anything near the abilities Eurus possesses. She appears to be one of a kind. I know your sons are highly intelligent also; however, Eurus does indeed, surpass even them. I understand your concern for guidance, and rest assured she will be closely monitored and help will be available for anything obstacle she may run up against, but letting her continue at her own pace appears to be the best course of action for her at this time.”

 

 

21 February 1985

 

“But you’ve got her totally isolated from _everyone_! Is that honestly the best you can do? She’s a child, our daughter, not some…some serial killer needing to be put in solitary confinement!” David Holmes sat back down in his chair, red-faced and breathing heavily. His wife reached over and patted his arm.

Dr. Lambert ran a shaky hand across his face. “Mr. and Mrs. Holmes, I am deeply sorry that we have had to…proceed with Eurus in this manner, but it couldn’t be helped. As you _know_ , she attacked another little girl last week and broke her arm; those parents are now filing a lawsuit. Last evening, she attacked her therapist with a plastic spoon. That attack resulted in five stitches on her face. She’s totally gone off her studies…even reading.”

Persephone swallowed hard before speaking. “Perhaps we should put her in a more structured educational setting now. All this…this isolation! It has to be playing havoc with her psyche! All these months with next to no contact with other children her age…it’s not...not healthy! Not normal!”

The doctor looked at Mrs. Holmes in some disbelief. “I...ah…I don’t think you are…understanding the seriousness of what your daughter has done here. Some of the administrators would like to see Eurus moved to a different facility. And quite frankly, I’ve had to come up with some very persuasive arguments for _not_ doing so. She has _attacked_ people, Mrs. Holmes. More than that, she has shown _no_ apparent remorse. When the counselor asked her how she felt about attacking the other girl, she laughed and said that what she _really_ wanted was to ‘send her to keep Victor company…gurgle, gurgle, gurgle’…whatever that means. The counselor, attempting to discuss alternative ways to deal with her displeasure or anger, appear to be what prompted the attack on the counselor. This…detention….will only be for a few days. As soon as she has proven that she can conduct herself in a calm, stable manner, she will be returned to her room.”

 

11 April 1985

 

“Eurus honey, are you sure you wouldn’t like a piece of your birthday cake…or ice cream?” Persephone questioned her daughter. “I think daddy has a present for you, too.”

David reached into a plastic bag and pulled out a brightly wrapped box. “Here, sweetheart, this is for you. Would you like to come sit on daddy’s lap?”

Eurus made no attempt to take the gift, or move towards her father, so he placed it on the floor beside her. Mycroft, who was sitting on his sister’s bed, looking decidedly uneasy, started picking at his loafers.

Persephone gave David a sad smile and turned to face Eurus. “So,” she began as cheerfully as she could, “Have you read any books recently; or worked on any crafts?”

“Where’s Sherlock.” was the flat reply. “He never comes.”

Eurus stood and walked over to a corner of the room. She sat, pulled her knees to her chest and started rocking.

 

27 June 1985

 

Persephone entered the kitchen and sat the groceries she was struggling with down on the counter. She told the boys to go wash for lunch and pulled the potted meat and bread out of one of the bags. She noticed that the answering machine was flashing red signaling that there were messages, but they could wait. David was in France on business and she had been extremely busy keeping everything running smoothly at home. She really needed to get lunch going and start the laundry. Persephone had just finished making the last of the sandwiches when the phone rang. Thinking it might be David, she answered it.

“Mrs. Um, Mrs. Holmes?” asked a shaky voice.

“Yes, speaking.”

A pause. A sigh. “This is Dr. Howard March, administrator for Aisling’s Children’s Hospital. Is your husband home?”

“My husband? No…what’s happened? Eurus! What’s happened to Eurus?”

“Mrs. Holmes, it would be better if we had this discussion in person. I…”

“No,” she interrupted, “tell me now. My husband is away. Tell me.”

Another sigh. “I regret to tell you…that your daughter has set another fire…”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
